“I can’t believe they’re here!” Harper said.
“Don’t keep us in suspense.” Fraser softly nudged her in the small of her back. “Open it.”
A squeal fell from Harper, and then she was dashing over. Eiley handed her the scissors from Maggie’s mug of stationery supplies, then retrieved her phone from her pocket, knowingthis moment would go straight on Harper’s steadily growing TikTok page. She hit record as Harper ripped into the box, Fraser standing just out of frame with fervent anticipation.
And there it was, finally in Harper’s hands. She’d worked tirelessly to bringThe Lost Princessto life during her first visit to Belbarrow last year – so tirelessly that she hadn’t been able to wait to find an agent, instead maintaining creative control and following the self-publishing route. Once, she’d only wanted to be a bestseller, but then the story had become about love and self-acceptance, and the pressure of succeeding had stopped mattering so much. The work and passion she’d put in only made the book more special, the cover glimmering with the iridescent tulle of the princess’s dress, fabric weaving over branches and pine needles as she treaded through the magical forest inspired by Belbarrow’s own woods.
“It’s real!” Harper gushed, mouth parted in awe and tears glimmering on her waterline. “It looks like a real book.” She dipped her head and took a long sniff of the pages. “And smells like one!”
Fraser looked puzzled, but Eiley understood perfectly. There was no greater smell than freshly printed books.
Once Harper had recovered from her elation, at least partly, she turned her attention to the camera like the professional influencer she was. “The Lost Princessis a steamy romantasy that’s out today, and you can grab the signed special edition in Thorn & Thistle Books, Belbarrow, where the book first came to life. If you’re local, stay tuned for an exciting in-person event soon!”
She sniffled again as she looked down at the book, reminding Eiley of a mother cradling her newborn. As Eiley stopped therecording, Fraser came over to wrap his arms around her, peering at the copies over Harper’s shoulder. “I’m so bloody proud of you, sunshine.”
“It wouldn’t exist without you. Or without you, Eiley, and all your beta reading.”
“Nonsense,” Eiley said, locking her phone. She’d felt she’d never provided much useful feedback for Harper; in Eiley’s eyes, it had been perfect from the very first draft. “This was all you. I just get to be the one to put it on a shelf.”
“Nonsense right back at you,” said Harper. “Early readers are so important – and now you’re a bookseller! I couldn’t be luckier to have you in my corner.”
Eiley picked up one of the many copies from the box, losing herself in the shimmer of the foil cover. She might have read this thrice already, Harper begging for feedback after each new draft, but Eiley couldn’t wait to experience the story in its final form. Reading was the only time she felt like herself – theherwho had existed before she’d been a girlfriend and a mother. The her who had come into this store every day after school to hide from the burdens of socialising and studying, because daydreaming about fictional characters was all she’d ever really been good at. Her grades had always been just fine, much to Mum’s confusion: surely a bookworm should be clever.
But Eiley hadn’t wanted to be clever. She’d wanted to disappear. When there had been nothing else, there had been books, with first Stephen and now Maggie always there to greet her behind the counter, letting her stay for as long as she wanted. Stephen had kept the store open long past closingtime some nights just so Eiley didn’t have to leave. In hindsight, he had beentookind. She hadn’t had enough money to purchase many books, treating the place more like a library instead, but he’d never minded. Never turned her away.
All she needed now was a rainy day to curl up and devour Harper’s words. Again. The first day of October hadn’t done a very decent job of sweeping the summer away. As lovely as it was to evade Scotland’s usual dark, wet autumns and the seasonal depression that sometimes accompanied them, she’d had enough of sun. She missed curling up with a hot chocolate, the rain pattering on the window while she got lost in a new world. At least the children could play in the crisp fallen leaves without getting covered in mud, but when would it be time for wellington boots and thick knitted jumpers?
“I hope I get to have the first signed copy,” she said coyly, nudging the book towards Harper.
“Obviously!” Harper did another happy dance, then nabbed a Sharpie from Maggie’s stationery cup. “I’m going to sign a book like a real author!”
“Aye, I see how it is.Eileygets the first copy. Not me, your supposed muse,” Fraser teased, feigning offence.
“Yougot the dedication,” reminded Eiley, prodding his chest. “So, when shall we schedule your signing? I cleared it with Maggie. She said any evening is fine.”
“Hm, how about this weekend?” Harper scribbled a heartwarming message and her elegant signature, complete with a little heart, into the first creamy page of the book, then returned the copy to Eiley.
“Nope!” said Fraser abruptly.
Harper narrowed her eyes. “Pardon?”
“This weekend won’t work.” He leaned with a wooden show of casualness against the counter.
“Why not?” Harper demanded.
“Everyone’s busy.” He shuffled from boot to boot, scratching his beard and avoiding direct eye contact. It was painful to watch. One thing all of the Milligan siblings had in common was their inability to hide things.
Harper put her hands on her hips. “I’mnot.”
“Me neither,” Eiley added.
“Fraser Thomas Milligan,” said Harper, “whatare you planning?”
Fraser deflated with a huff. “I’mnot planning anything. You’ll find out tonight. Both of you. See you at the tavern at six for celebratory drinks.”
Before they could pry, he kissed Harper on the forehead and then strode out of the store, leaving Eiley and Harper to glance suspiciously at one another. “I hope it’s not a fancy home-cooked meal,” said Harper. “He almost burnt down the cabin last time.”
“That was you,” Eiley reminded, the memory of the newly expanded kitchen filling with smoke making her shudder. She’d only been trying to heat up some lasagne to celebrate their official housewarming, but the food, and the edge of the casserole dish, had disintegrated into ash.
